Have You Hugged Your Brother Today?
by Obi the Kid
Summary: Cal is held captive by a desperate hug from Niko.


**Title**: Have You Hugged Your Brother Today?

**POV**: Cal

**Author**: Obi the Kid

**Rating**: PG

**Summary:** Cal is held captive by a desperate hug from Niko.

**Disclaimer:** All hail Rob Thurman! No profit here, I'm just having fun.

****MINOR SPOILERS FOR 'SLASHBACK.' **

**Dedication:** To Evil Niko, from the absolutely brilliant fic, 'Contra Bonos Mores' by Miranda Crystal-Bearer. Yes, her portrayal of Niko as a non-canon evil type monster-brother, is so off-center, so creepy and yet so addicting, that reading it has forced me to a huggy-Niko fic. Enjoy!

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It didn't matter that my clothes were covered in blood and that I looked like chaotic crap. It didn't matter that I smelled like a five week old dumpster. It didn't matter that I was covered in numerous other bodily fluids, including my own puke. What did matter, was that I was alive and_ that_ meanteverything…to my brother.

I'd made it back to our place fifteen minutes before Niko thanks to Robin's ability to drive like a psycho New York cabbie. Both Promise and I had turned several shades of green during the trip, but as I had already puked my guts out previously, I didn't have much left in the tank for an in-car puking event. And not knowing if Vampires had the ability or need to blow chunks like those of us with human blood, I worked off the assumption that she had things under control.

Niko had been on the other side of town, working an angle for another unrelated case. We'd called him when the ambush happened – an ambush that had involved several of the most foul-smelling creatures that exist in the universe, I was certain; hence the vomit problems. No way could Niko get there in time to help, not in the tank-sized heap of junk he still insisted on driving, but once we'd gotten clear of trouble (we ran like our asses were on burning with the fires of Hell), Robin had called his cell to let him know we'd managed an out and were heading home.

Now, given these events of today; the way I looked and smelled, and the events of the past month – Nik's father slash user slash liar slash murderer slash evil son of a bitch; followed closely by Spring-heeled Jack along with Niko's breakdown regarding Junior and all those wonderfully tormenting memories of the past…I couldn't blame my brother for his reaction when he exploded into the apartment. Mind you, Niko's version of exploding into something doesn't fit with canon. This_ was_ Niko were where talking about after all.

The door opened with a quick blur, but cautiously and controlled. Always controlled. Though I could alone see the tightness in the grip he held on the door knob. It perfectly matched the same tightness in his jaw. He didn't say anything, just came in, walked directly toward me and pulled me into a hug so tight that I had to learn how to breathe again in those initial few seconds. The familiar arms wrapped around me, his head buried in my shoulder and that's where he stayed.

My own stunned reaction, after my breath did come back, was to just stand there, return the hug and make sure he knew that I was alive and okay.

My arms wrapped around his back and I offered a few supportive pats. "It's okay, Nik. Seriously. Despite what you see and smell, I'm okay. I swear."

From over his shoulder, I could see Robin and Promise looking on, confused as I had momentarily been. I wasn't confused anymore. We were coming off one of the most trying months in Niko's life. He'd had to confront vengeful family and a horrific past that he'd kept concealed behind a twelve-year-old steel-built wall. If anyone had the right to just need a big ole damn hug, Niko did.

He didn't move so I didn't move. The hold didn't loosen so neither did mine. Hell, if Nik needed to hang onto me all day long, I'd be okay with that. It was the least I could do for him after all he'd done, been and given up for me. Part of me though was worried. Things had been crashing in around us lately and Nik's walls had cracked; temporarily fallen in one instance. I had no way of knowing what was ahead for us, but life was getting more difficult and more complicated every day – if that was even possible for us. How much stress could a man take before a breakdown went from temporary to permanent?

Niko wasn't just any man of course; he was a kick-ass super ninja who could dissect you like a science class frog with one hand while sipping a puke-green seaweed smoothie with the other. Still, he was human and bottled up in that anal-retentive genius brain of his were emotions and feelings and pain that even I couldn't completely comprehend. Memories of Junior had only been one part of all of that. You start at the age of four, taking on the responsibility to be the sole care provider for your baby brother – and it becomes your world. There is no childhood. There is no playing with friends. No learning from dad how to ride a bike. No words from mom on the importance of washing your hands when you're sick and not wiping your snotty nose on your sleeve after you sneeze. There is none of the normal that comes with growing up. There is no life beyond the needs of that one life that you literally hold in your hands. There is no time for disquieting emotions that eat you up inside. No, those…those are yours and yours alone. You put all the pain and anguish and fear and anger and rage and helplessness behind wall after wall after wall and you suck it up and deal with the unfairness and injustice that life has hurled at you. You deal with it as best as you can, because that baby brother depends on it.

That was Niko.

Me? Hell, I'd been the lucky one. When I hit four years old, I had someone. The best brother – best person - in the whole world. For the first few years of his life, Nik had had nothing, not one single damn thing except to hide within himself – burying emotion after emotion along the way - and make the best of the crap-hole life he'd been born into. How the hell does a four year old even conceive that, much less do it? And then I happened and the emotions tripled and there was no opportunity to give into them. No time to give into fear. Or hurt. Or pain. There was only one thing: Take care of Cal. Look after him. Raise him. Love him. And then maybe one day when he's old enough you'll have that emotional support system you've needed all your life.

I didn't pretend to believe that I was an emotional support system – or that I was even emotionally stable, but for Nik, I'd do my world-rattling damndest to be whatever I could be when he needed it. To give him whatever I could. And right now, evidently, he needed the world's longest and most lung-deflating hug.

"Should I call Guinness, Cyrano? You know I'm covered in the bodily fluids of not only myself but of several others of the non-human types, right?"

"Shut up, Cal."

The words were muffled, but I got them and I snorted in return as a lifetime of emotional need was being rolled out in this now five minute embrace. I knew it was five minutes, because a glance over to Robin and he'd tapped his watch and held up five fingers. There you go. I mouthed to him to 'Call Guinness' before refocusing on my brother.

"Nik?" I didn't want to push him away – it's the last thing I'd ever do – but I was beginning to wonder if he did plan on letting me go at any point or if he'd just squeeze me until my eyes bugged out and my innards flattened and spilled out of me.

"Cal."

I tried to lean him towards liberating me.

"It's okay to let go, Cyrano. I'm not going anywhere. Swear it. Well, I'd like go to the shower and wash the forty-seven layers of vile and disgusting off of me, but that's a given."

Niko released a warm deep breath against my face as he slowly disengaged himself from me. And just when I'd thought I'd found freedom is when he cupped my face in his hands, looked directly into my gray eyes that mirrored his own and then leaned forward to kiss the top of my head – just as he used to do when I was small. Back then, at least once I'd gotten to the age when I'd outgrown such a thing, I would punch him in the shoulder after the fact. I did it this time as well, if just to maintain that consistent familiarity…from our past…to keep Niko sane in the present.

He responded with a soft hand to my face and a simple, "You smell like a manure farm, among other things. Go get cleaned up."

Yeah, once a big brother, always a big brother. I offered him my genuine – _Only for Nik_ – smile. Then I retorted with, "Huh. You should smell yourself. Never hug a man covered in random bodily fluids. It's a rule I try and abide by. You might want to consider that one, Nik."

Naturally, he ignored my remark so he could ascertain my condition. "Any of that blood yours?"

"Some. Just some minor cuts though. A few band aids and I'll be good as new."

"Clean the wounds thoroughly, Cal."

I didn't worry too much about infection, especially not with small wounds, not with my Auphe immune system in full swing, but because this was part of what Nik needed in his daily life, to know that I could and would take care of myself and that I wouldn't die from a paper cut, I'd make sure every wound was cleaned, sterilized and bandaged before presenting them for inspection.

"I will, Mom. And keep Robin out of the bathroom, would you? Last thing I need is his Peeping Tom ass creeping around and trying for more Facebook photos of Cal, Jr. Damn puck had me – it - accepting friend requests and everything! Jesus! I might puke again, stand clear, Nik."

"Cal."

I shut up, as there it was. What I'd been searching for. Rebuke in the classic Niko form of one single word. Never could one person say so much with one simple syllable. History missed out on this one; one of the world's greatest leaders, never to be.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going." I had to make sure of one thing first though. "You're good, right, Nik?"

"I'm good, little brother. Swear it."

The words were enough, but when his eyes smiled to follow, I knew there was nothing but truth there. Whatever had triggered Niko's anxious need for contact today, I didn't know for absolute certain. And I wouldn't pry, at least not too hard. Most likely just a build up, as I'd said, of the last month. As super human as he was, at times there was no denying that _human_ part; the one that came with needs and emotions - even if those things were locked behind walls.

Walls do crack.

Walls do break.

And when that happens – for his sanity and mine - _I _have to be the one there on the other side of those walls.

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The end


End file.
